


Nev Ikioyth {The Vow}

by EmeraldHeiress



Series: Hold On [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Feels, Dai Bendu (Star Wars), Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Slavery, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Unreliable Narrator Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29580471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: “You can’t go!” His throat stung as he tried to swallow. The lump forming in it was large and unyielding. “You can’t!”“Anakin!”His name came like a shock to his ears. He had never heard that tone in his master’s voice.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Hold On [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173218
Comments: 16
Kudos: 144
Collections: New SW Canon Server Works





	Nev Ikioyth {The Vow}

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Heart Language](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104063) by [aroacejoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejoot/pseuds/aroacejoot), [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine), [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters). 



> I was prompted to include this sentence: _Ikio fehl giiyhaji keel fuhx_
> 
> Fun fact... This is serving as something of a prequel to my Kidnapping AU. Take that how you will.

“No!”

He was shaking. He could feel the tremble of his limbs. The world around him blurred as his eyes watered. Tightly, he clenched them against the tears, desperate to stem the flow. He may not be in the desert anymore, sweltering under the twin suns of Tatooine, but he was still her child. Tears were nothing but a waste of water — and he had already wasted enough.

“You can’t go!” His throat stung as he tried to swallow. The lump forming in it was large and unyielding. “You can’t!”

“Anakin!”

His name came like a shock to his ears. He had never heard that tone in his master’s voice.

 _Jaieh ket fehl_ , he reminded himself.

The same word in Basic, he knew, but the meaning was worlds — _galaxies_ — apart.

“Anakin, _stop!_ ”

A command: sharp and hard. It send a thrum through him he couldn’t quite explain. Like the strike of a lash over sweating skin or the sting of a switch against his knuckles.

It _hurt_.

He gasped and crumpled, hugging his knees to his chest. His lungs burned as his breath shuddered in his chest.

“You _can’t_.” He croaked, again. Knowing it was useless.

Futile.

His master was _leaving_.

Faces of others flashed before him. The faces of those that had gone before. Lost in the desert or to the block. Lost to sickness or death or the safety of the night.

Friends… and family.

Anakin’s breath hitched in his chest as Obi-Wan’s face flashed through his mind, too. Transposed over another’s. Ragged and scorched under the blaze of twin suns. Red staining the too-tender skin of his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

It felt like an omen. A warning of things to come. Choked and tied to the threads of the past. To the memories of his mother’s wife. Of his sisters and brothers. Of his aunts and uncles.

All those lost before. All those ripped way.

_They never come back._

Sometimes, as he watched the many moons of Coruscant cross the sky, knowing that his mother watched and prayed to the Three Sisters of Tatooine, he felt the guilt curl in his belly. He was but the last in a long line of those his mother had lost to the sands.

That last in a long line to leave her. Never to return.

“Anakin?”

Obi-Wan’s voice was softer. Hesitant. A hand brushed his head. He flinched at the unexpected touch. It disappeared immediately and he couldn’t help but miss it.

“Please, master…” He whispered and wondered fleetingly when he had become so weak. When he had allowed himself to forget the lessons of the Desert. What a difference living in the Temple made in him, that he couldn’t handle the parting of another —

His breath hitched.

_Oh._

Another member of his _family_ leaving again.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, Anakin.” A sigh. “Dear one, it’s only for a couple of weeks.”

He hugged his knees tighter, knowing it was useless. Tasting the unknowing lie at the back of his throat. It didn’t matter what Obi-Wan thought. It was _never_ just a week or two. Or a month or two.

No one ever came back.

The air shifted around him, the space filling with something he couldn’t identify. An emotion he didn’t understand.

“Ever, padawan?”

Anakin hadn’t realized he had spoken. He just shook his head, the linen of his leggings scraping against his cheek. He had no words to explain. They stuck in his throat like sand from a storm.

His name came again. Softly, almost a whisper and filled with feeling. Fabric rustled and footsteps receded. Anakin dug his nails into his shins. This was it. Obi-Wan was leaving; he’d never see him again.

Anakin would be all by himself in this huge building — full of marble and open spaces. This place that was larger than the entire city he had grown up in. In this room that was bigger than the home he and his mother had shared the last few years.

Would they send him back there, he wondered. Back to Tatooine and the chains that he had only just slipped?

With no _jaieh_ to teach him, with no one to claim him, he was free for a true Master.

Free to become chattel once more.

Thoughts of sand and heat and blood and the lash flickered through his mind like glitches on a holovid. His breath came sharply. Too quick. Too hard.

A part of him realized that he was spiraling. That his mind was filling with some of his worst fears. That his logic had fled. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t know how to stop it. All he knew was that aching deep feeling of loss. That shadow of impending doom hanging over him.

Flash after flash flowed through his head. A lifetime of slavery. Laboring on the sands of his homeworld, watching his mother die still in chains. Watching her leave him a final time. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the guilt of leaving her himself.

He was trembling again.

“Anakin!”

Something soft and heavy covered his shoulders and his train of thought broke away. His mind briefly quieted in his surprise. He lifted his head and blinked at the lowlight of the room, like he was seeing it for the first time.

Obi-Wan stared back at him. His eyes were worried but warm. The furrow between his brow crinkled.

“ _Jaieh?_ ” Anakin asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

A hand reached out, offering. Anakin took it, pulling Obi-Wan to him, seeking the comfort of his master’s arms. The familiar scents of eirawood and tea surrounded him as he buried his nose in the body-warm robes and his breath hitched. A moment later, he was sobbing.

A gentle hand stroked his hair as the other wrapped around him. Words were murmured softly in his ear. Words of safety. Of reassurance. Words of comfort. He just cried harder, unable to stop the flow.

He cried for the lost. All of them. He remembered every face. Blood shed across sand or tile. Or sold in the shifting of coin from hand to hand. Those lost to the safety of the night — death the price for those who dared to return.

He cried for his mother, alone in her earthen home. Alone at Watto’s whim and scarce mercy.

Left behind.

He cried for Obi-Wan and the mission that would take him away.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. I’ve got you, Anakin.”

 _“Taweju_.” _Please_. He tried again. One last time. Even though he knew that Obi-Wan had to go; that he couldn’t disobey the council. Not for _him_.

“I’ll come back, padawan.”

His tongue stumbling over the still-new words, Anakin begged, “ _Ikio fehl giiyhaji keel fuhx_.”

“Yes.” The promise fell from Obi-Wan’s lips seemingly without thought. Without pause. “Of course, Anakin. Of course I will.”

He placed his hands on Anakin’s cheeks, wiping away his tears. “I will always always return to you, Anakin.”

“You can’t promise that.” The boy rasped, clenching his hands in the blanket wrapped around him. Even at ten he knew better than that. “You _can’t_.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan stated, “I can.”

The Force resonated with the truth of the words and Anakin didn’t know what to do with that. He allowed himself to be drawn back into his _jaieh’_ s embrace, his emotions swirling with confusion.

“ _Ikio’ah foh keelel_.”

Anakin closed his eyes and breathed, allowing the sound of his master’s heartbeat to ground him. He didn’t know how long they sat there, on the floor of their quarters, but he was stiff when he moved again. His muscles groaning in protest.

“ _Heleo._ ” He whispered.

Obi-Wan startled, looking down in surprise.

“I don’t think it was all as bad as that, padawan.” He tugged on Anakin’s braid gently. “Nevertheless, you’re forgiven.”

Anakin ducked his head as his cheeks heated.

“Come. I think a cup of tea is in order. Then,” his master’s voice took on a rueful note, “perhaps a clean up.”

“What?”

Anakin rose on protesting knees and scanned the den, eyes wide with surprise. Everything looked as if someone had lifted the whole room and given it a good shake before setting it down again. Even the plant pots were tipped over, dark soil spilling across colorful rugs.

“What happened?” He asked, astonished. Everything had been fine when Obi-Wan had told him of his new mission.

A hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m afraid we’ll have to keep working on your emotional control, dear one.”

Something twisted low in his gut, “ _I_ did this?”

He couldn’t—there was no way—but yet…

If he did… they’d been _right_. All those stern faces in that room so cold.

He was _dangerous_. He—

Blue eyes filled his vision.

“Anakin, _breathe_. Look at me. Breathe with me.”

Air rushed into his lungs and Anakin realized he had almost done it again.

“It’s alright, padawan.”

It wasn’t. Obi-Wan was leaving and Anakin himself was out of control and they were _right_ and—

A glass of water was pressed to his lips. He drank. It was cool and soothing and he felt the storm inside him ease again. Obi-Wan’s hands were warm on his arms and his presence steady at the back of Anakin’s mind.

“I’ll be back, Anakin. We’ll work on your control. Everything will be alright.”

The Force move swirled around them: thick and heavy. Like the promise that had fallen so easily from his _jaieh’s_ lips. Part of him, a curl of warmth spreading through his chest, felt like hope. Felt like belief.

Maybe… it _would_ all be alright.

\--------------------------------------------------

_Dai Bendu_

_Jaieh ket fehl_ _-_ essentially ‘My jaieh’

 _jaieh_ \- teacher/master

 _Taweju -_ Please

 _Ikio fehl giiyhaji keel fuhx -_ Promise me you will return to me

 _Ikio’ah foh keelel -_ I promise. A very heavy promise. Sacred.

 _Heleo -_ A very heavy, weighty apology.

Dai Bendu is a Jedi conlang created and expanded by [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters), [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine), and [aroacejoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejoot/pseuds/aroacejoot). Link to _Heart Language_ above.


End file.
